


Mesmerizing

by GaHoolianGirl



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Painting, Portraits, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Rare Pairings, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22518250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl
Summary: Ferdinand von Aegir was lonely.It wasn't hard to tell, really. From Ignatz's increasingly hazy memory of their academy days, Ferdinand used to be boisterous and cheerful, if a bit insensitive at times.But now, seeing the noble look forlornly out the large, cracked stained glass of the cathedral as his heart and mind were lost in prayer, Ignatz found him quiet, lonely, and chillinglybeautiful.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Ignatz Victor
Comments: 11
Kudos: 32





	Mesmerizing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saturnulysses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnulysses/gifts).



> This started as "this friend has been very supportive of me as of late and they mentioned liking the idea of this rarepair so let me write a quick thing for them" to "longest thing I've written in 2 months".

Ferdinand von Aegir was _lonely_. 

It wasn't hard to tell, really. From Ignatz's increasingly hazy memory of their academy days, Ferdinand used to be boisterous and cheerful, if a bit insensitive at times. 

But now, seeing the noble look forlornly out the large, cracked stained glass of the cathedral as his heart and mind were lost in prayer, Ignatz found him quiet, lonely, and chillingly _beautiful_.

His hands twitched.

With his throat full of cotton, he took a few hesitant steps towards the taller man, "Ferdinand?"

"Hm?" Turning his head slowly, soulful orange eyes caught nervous brown, and Ignatz's heart stopped beating his chest much like their beloved Professor, "Oh, Ignatz? What can I do for you this fine afternoon?"

"N-Nothing in particular," he cursed the crack in his voice, "I just thought, perhaps, I could join you? In your prayer?"

"Of course!" Ferdinand's smile didn't reach his eyes, but it was warm and inviting all the same, so Ignatz dutifully stood beside him, clasping his hands together and shutting his eyes tight, letting the innermost prayer in his soul free.

_Please, let him not be lonely anymore._

He could feel his cheeks flush something fierce. He barely knew the man! Why did he care so much for his happiness? Only the Goddess knew, and she was famous for keeping her secrets close- but what he did know was that at this moment, it was the raw, honest truth.

From one discussion he recalled with Marianne, part of the power of prayer was that even if the Goddess herself did not answer, it could still come true, because the call to have it fulfilled was left in your _own_ hands. 

So he would make his own wish come true.

After a moment of quiet between them, the only sound the low murmur of the faithful around them and the wind whistling through the cracks and holes in the destroyed architecture, he finally found his courage to speak, "Ferdinand?"

"Yes?"

"Would you let me," he gulped thickly, "Paint you? Most of my paintings are landscapes or depictions of the Goddess and her Saints, I would like to try my hand at a standard portrait. If you wouldn't mind, of course."

The silence he initially received made Ignatz fear the worse, that he had overstepped some unspoken rule that you did not cross as merely acquaintances, that he had shattered his hopes as quickly as he had developed them.

"Truly? You wish to paint _me_?"

"Huh?" Ignatz blinked owlishly, made even more noticeable by the magnification of his glasses, "Why wouldn't I?"

Ferdinand bit his lip, a charming flush falling on his cheeks, "That is just the highest form of flattery I have ever been offered, I would not wish for you to waste your talents on me if you were not certain. I have seen your work, it is most gorgeous."

That was not what he expected to hear... he didn't recall ever showing Ferdinand any of his paintings, but he did have a habit of occasionally leaving works in progress behind when he ran to get more supplies, so perhaps he saw it then? Which one did he see? Did he _actually_ like them or was he just being kind? Did he-

His treacherous mind was sounding too much like it would have when he was younger, so he did his best to ignore the voice of anxiety in his head, "Thank you so much... but that's all the more reason for me to paint you more than anyone else, yeah?"

That pretty flush on Ferdinand's cheeks turned a stark crimson and infected the whole of his face.

Ignatz realized the implication of his words a second too late.

"I mean you _are_ a beautiful person and you would look lovely painted but that's not the only reason-"

Holding a gloved hand out to silence the other man's rambling, Ferdinand cleared his throat, "Whatever your reason, I would most graciously accept your offer. A portrait from someone with your skill would be the highest honor."

"Great!" Ignatzs nerves gave way to the excitement of being able to paint such a muse, "Would you be free to sit for the preliminary sketch tomorrow?"

The laugh that freed itself from Ferdinand's throat and the smile that accompanied it were the realest expressions of joy Ignatz had seen from him since they had all regrouped at the monastery just over two months ago.

Butterflies took flight in his heart.

* * *

The next day they were together in the cathedral, by the large pile of rubble that required more manpower than they had to clear. Ignatz has said to set it there would symbolize Ferdinand rising above adversity, and the man in question just nodded placatingly.

"Should I sit like this?" crossing his legs and placing his hands on his raised knees as he sat on a large piece of what was once ceiling, Ferdinand smiled as winningly as he could. As charming as the stiff and awkward pose was, Ignatz shook his head. 

"Just sit normally, it has to be a pose you can hold for a few hours at a time. I would think you've sat for portraits before?"

Looking sheepish, Ferdinand relaxed himself, posing much more naturally, "Not since I was a young boy. I had one painted to commemorate my birth, and then again when I was five years old with my entire family, but as I got older, I did not wish to have another."

Taking up his charcoal and blocking out his basic figure, Ignatz questioned, "Why?"

"I wanted to wait to have the next one done when I was Prime Minister. However, when that happened... it was not exactly a position I wished for any longer. For circumstances you know well, I am sure."

There was that lonely look in his eyes again, tightening Ignatz's heart in a death grip, "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was such a painful subject."

"Please, no apologies needed. You would have no way of knowing."

Pausing his movements, Ignatz looked at his canvas, then his subject, "...what hobbies do you have?"

This surprised Ferdinand, "Hobbies? I enjoy the study of history, weaponry, and politics."

Of course he had such noble pursuits, how could he have hoped to relate to him, _what a fool he was-_

"I also enjoy music a great deal. I love to sing and watch theater."

"You like the arts?"

"Very much! That is why I admire your work so," his voice got softer, "It is remarkable to me that you are able to make a career of your talents like that."

A familiar sinking, bitter feeling filled Ignatz's chest like it was an empty jar, making him unable to mask the resentment in his next statement, "I may not be."

"It was my turn to make statements without caution, I am afraid. My sincerest apologies," Ferdinand bit his lip before speaking again, "Why, if I may ask? You certainly have the ability to pursue this professionally, and it is clearly a passion of yours."

"It's fine. My father wanted me to be a knight, because it's more financially stable. I love my family, so I don't want to disappoint..."

"There would be no issue if you had a noble patron, yes?"

Ignatz's head snapped up, eyes wide, "Yes, I would believe so?"

"I see."

And Ferdinand said nothing else.

* * *

As each day passed, and incremental progress was made on Ferdinand's portrait, it became clear to them both that they actually found remarkably well suited conversational partners in one another. 

Ignatz, even if more confident than ever, was not always the most apt at keeping a conversation going, which was luckily an area where Ferdinand excelled. In exchange, Ignatz's perspective as a commoner of a different land was endlessly fascinating to the noble, who adored being regaled with stories of mercantile and domestic pursuits which would have bored any other.

"The world is so different when looking through another's eyes," Ferdinand declared as he rose from his seated position, as that day's session had ended, "That is a fault I find in many other nobles, they refuse to see the world outside of their own narrow view."

Ignatz nodded, gathering up his oils, "I suppose when you're looking from a very high tower, everything below looks insignificant."

"That is no excuse," Ferdinand replied seriously, "It is why I could no longer support Edelgard, and why I chose to follow the Professor and Claude."

"What?"

"I believe Edelgard is intelligent and capable, but she is clouded by her experiences and struggles to examine the world outside of them. That is why we must fight this horrid war."

"You think the reason we fight is just because people in power can't seem to walk a day in another's shoes?" Ignatz prayed every day it was that simple.

"I truly do. It is something we as nobles must constantly strive to do, else we fail at our single most important duty," he walked over to assist Ignatz, gathering his brushes and rags, staining his normally pristine white gloves, "We cannot help and protect those we never intend to understand."

That flutter he had first felt came back in full force, graduating from butterflies to a full flock of birds. 

"Ignatz?" that voice which pleasantly haunted his soul spoke, "You have paint on your cheek."

Keeping his promise to help, Ferdinand used the clean corner of one the brush rags in his hand to wipe it off, and Ignatz nearly swallowed his own tongue.

"Thank you," he perhaps might have said, because his voice was so quiet he may have been inaudible. This feeling in his chest that had started simply as a desire to keep Ferdinand from being lonely had steadily grown into...

"Are you alright? You do not look well, my friend."

_Friend._

"I'm fine," he assured, opening his satchel and quickly, too quickly, packing his supplies inside. Concern seeped into those eyes which had caught his attention almost three months ago, and he couldn't breathe, he had to _go-_

-why where his glasses being lifted off of his face?

"I have difficulty seeing your eyes when the light reflects off of your glasses," Ferdinand said, mesmerized, "They are as lovely and intelligent as I thought they would be."

Ignatz fell off the stool he was sitting on.

" ** _OOF!"_** all the air left his lungs when he made contact with the hard stone ground, struggling to orient himself due to his impaired vision and the shock from the impact.

"Ignatz!? Are you alright!?"

"I'm fine," he groaned out, "Could I have my glasses?"

"Of course! I am sorry for taking them off without permission!" Ferdinand dove forward to kneel beside Ignatz, sliding the frames back onto his face. After a few blinks, the artist was able to see again, and of course the Goddess in her mysterious and at times cruel way, had the first thing he saw be Ferdinand's concerned face staring at his own.

"It's alright, I think you were right, I don't feel well, is all."

"Perhaps we should take you to the infirmary? Not many were injured in our last battle so Manuela should be able to attend to you-"

"No! No, I just need to get back to my room and sleep. We're done for today, so it's fine."

Looking unconvinced, but like he wouldn't press any further, Ferdinand nodded, "Very well. If you would like, we can withhold on meeting tomorrow, just in case. You need to be rested for the upcoming battle."

 _To miss out on an opportunity to see you would be like torture_ , "That's wise," _My heart hurts_.

After that Ferdinand insisted upon carrying his supplies and canvas to his quarters, but left with an unusually curt goodbye.

Tears threatened Ignatz's eyes as he gazed at the nearly finished portrait and he let them fall.

* * *

It was two days later that he had received a knock at his door, a familiar set of three prim and proper taps. He had been tightening his bow string for the march they'd be making in three days time, but he knew that'd be no excuse for being the one to reach out to Ferdinand yet also to be the one to hide away without a word.

He cast his eyes downwards as he opened the door, too afraid to read the painfully open expression on the other's face. That openness with what he wanted and desired was one of the many things Ignatz had come to admire and curse about Ferdinand. Some recess of his brain recalled an etiquette lesson taught by Manuela from five years ago explaining how you should never greet someone with an apology, but he ignored it.

"I'm sorry..."

"Whatever for?"

Ignatz raised his head, to find concern on Ferdinand's face instead of hurt, "I was quite worried, you were unwell when we last met, and then you shut yourself in your room for two days. I was concerned you were more ill than you let on!"

"E-Eh? Well," he rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm sorry I didn't let you know I was better, then. I didn't mean to make you worry."

"My only concern is that you are well," relief flooded the nobles voice. A melodious tone that hurt as much as it soothed, "If you feel like you cannot finish the portrait, may I perhaps see it in its current state?"

It was known that Ignatz _hated_ letting others see his works in progress.

But this was Ferdinand.

"No problem. It's nearly done as is anyhow. Please, come in."

His room was generally neat and tidy, but because of his... predicament it was not as pristine as it could have been, and he felt embarrassment seep into his bones. He did his best not to focus on it.

Propped up against the wall stood the canvas, now adorned with paint depicting none other than the venerable Ferdinand von Aegir. In his stately coat, well pressed pants, and impeccably shined boots, he looked to be the pinnacle of refinement, helped in no small part by the elaborate detail put into each element by the artist. What was most stand out, however, was his hair. In reality it was a pleasant orange, beautiful to be sure, but in the painting it was like fire, vibrant and alive, eye catching and mesmerizing. So real, like one out reach out and touch it.

"Ignatz..." the awe in Ferdinand's voice rang clear as the cathedral bells, "You have portrayed me so...radiantly! My true self could not even compare!"

"I just painted what I saw."

That flush from the first time they spoke returned to Ferdinand's cheeks, "Excuse me?"

Every instinct in Ignatz's body screamed at him to end it there, not to say another word, there was no way Ferdinand was harboring the same feelings as him, but he mustered all his courage, "I painted you only as beautiful as you are."

"You- You said that before," there was a tremble in the noble's voice he had never heard before, "That you found me, beautiful. I had believed you meant only aesthetically."

"At the time, that was how I meant it. I shouldn't be telling you this, but I thought you looked _lonely,_ when I saw you that day. You just had to turn against your homeland, and the way you were praying...I wanted to make sure you were never that lonely again."

"Ignatz-"

"I've known _of_ you for five years, yet only really _known_ you for a month, but it already feels like forever. I didn't understand at first, but the more I looked at this painting, the more I felt like there was a feeling behind my brush I'd never really understood before. I know what it is now."

"Before you continue, would you let me speak?"

The rejection he always knew was coming. Sighing, he lifted up his glasses to rub his eyes before nodding in assent.

"When we were only students, I had found an unfinished painting of Seiros by her statue. This was long after mass, when I presume you believed not many people would be there to see you."

Ignatz couldn't hope to see where he was going with this, but stayed silent, curious all the same.

"I was at once _transfixed,_ I had never before seen her depicted with such sheer reverence, such talent, such _emotion_. After I managed to tear myself away, I took my leave of the cathedral, but as I departed I saw you claim it. I knew you only in name, then..."

He took a breath, and looked at Ignatz like he perhaps once looked at that painting, with adoration, "But the boy who painted that painting which had moved my heart such? I could never forget him. Ever since, you have always had my attention in some manner."

"You've been... aware of me, all these years?"

"Yes. So when you called out to me, asked if I wanted to be put to canvas with that same adoration, I could say nothing other than yes. Looking back, perhaps I have loved you for quite a long time."

Time slowed to a crawl, each word processing through Ignatzs mind one at a time. For years, Ferdinand had been watching him out of the corner of his eye, liking his work and liking _him?_ Talented, outgoing, noble by birth and by action, Ferdinand von Aegir, has liked him, Ignatz Victor, for almost six years. 

He wanted to laugh, cry, sing, and dance all at once.

"I almost can't believe it. It took me a month to fall for you, when it only took you a moment?"

Ferdinand laughed, an amazing and beautiful and full sound, "Perhaps not _only_ a moment."

Wordlessly, he pulled his gloves off and tucked them delicately into his pockets, before reaching out a cautious hand to caress Ignatz's cheek. Luckily, it was a welcome gesture, the artist leaning into his hand like a flower to sunlight. 

"I shall make sure to ask this time. Might I remove your glasses?"

"Ah, yes, why?"

Pushing the frames up so they rested on top of his head (mussing his bangs in the process), Ferdinand smiled, sweetly and privately, "Because they would get in the way if I tried to do this-"

He leaned forward and placed a feather light kiss on Ignatz's lips. Then another, and another, and soon feather light became playful and insistent, and the world around them melted away.

When he saw Ferdinand von Aegir praying that day, he looked lonely, but perhaps, Ignatz was as well.

But that no longer mattered, as now neither of them would be lonely again for a long, _long_ time.•

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought! I thought this was an interestingly opportunity to write about Ferdinand's POV if he's recruited to GD. This was also my first time writing Ignatz, so let me know if I did okay.


End file.
